


Safe With Me

by psyraah



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: Ed doesn't like secrets, and he definitely doesn't like Roy Mustang, atall. But the universe never listens, does it?“Itisa secret admirer!”Al was far too happy about this. It wasn’t a secret admirer; if they really admired Ed that much, they wouldn’t send him flowers or leave sappy messages right where his brother and the whole office could see them. They wouldn’t want Ed to die of embarrassment, at the tender age of twenty-five, standing in the doorway with a blush matching the dozen red roses adorning his usually messy desk.“Must be very wealthy,” Roy commented.“Or a florist,” Kain supplied helpfully.“Reckon they just nicked it from their grandma,” Jean drawled. “Don’t date someone like that, Boss.”





	Safe With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinygrunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinygrunt/gifts).



> Hi Cade! I'm your secret Santa this year, sorry for the delay, it was a last minute pinch hit. I hope you enjoy!

It all started with a sticky note. One stuck to his locker, innocent as anything on a Monday morning.

It kinda pissed Ed off, really. He was meant to be smart. He was meant to be clever, or some shit, otherwise he wouldn’t have been hired at one of the premier research laboratories in the country.

But why the fuck couldn’t he figure out whose handwriting it was?

Not that he had much to go off. Barely a sentence, with a wonky smiley face drawn next to it.

 

_I hope your day is an enjoyable one._

 

“Forgotten how to read, Elric?”

Ed turned around, just in time to see Roy Mustang stroll by with a sandwich in hand to the kitchen.

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at the paper for the better part of ten minutes,” Roy said, with his best Smarmy Fuck Who Doesn’t Give A Shit voice. “One would think you’d forgotten how to read.”

“You better hope not, Mustang, else you’re gonna have a lot more shit to do,” he snapped back.

Infuriating as ever, the man only smirked, and glided—who the fuck even walked like that?—out of the room.

“Haven’t forgotten how to read,” Ed muttered. But he _was_ holding what looked like a mystery love note in his hand, so who the fuck even knew anymore?

* * *

 A week later, there was another note, this time taped to his locker door along with a chocolate bar.

_I know your stash is running low_.

 

Another week, another Monday, and this time it was a voucher for the best coffee shop in the area.

 

 _Please take care of yourself; your hours are starting to be concerning. You refuse to rest more, so the least I can do is help you feel a little more human_.

 

The way Ed’s heart turned a little in his chest made him feel more human than he had in a while.

“Who the fuck are you?” he muttered, tugging off the final bits of the tape stuck to his locker.

“Careful, Ed. Don’t accept food from strangers.” Falman opened up his own locker next to Ed’s own, glancing over. “Never know what’s in it.”

Ed frowned. “Falman, they’re _vouchers_.”

“Still,” he muttered darkly. “You never know.”

“Vato, if you’re referring to the time that I offered you a snack, I hope you remember that you’re the one who then left the yoghurt out for several hours.” Hawkeye joined the two of them, looking firmly unimpressed. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea. And I hardly qualify as a stranger. Besides,” she continued, before Falman could protest. “Whoever this is must be close by to have access. We likely know them.”

Ed had figured out that much for himself, but the way Hawkeye was tilting her head, the corner of her mouth twitching, had him squinting suspiciously. Well, not actually; you didn’t tend to squint at Hawkeye in case she got mad at you. But internally, he was squinting suspiciously. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Riza, I need your help with something,” Roy called from his desk. “Urgently. Right now.”

Smiling knowingly, Hawkeye left.

* * *

 The next time was only a few days later, instead of the usual Monday morning surprise. The vague threat of a cold that had floated over Ed for the past couple of days had finally shoved it’s ugly head out of it’s ugly cave dwelling like some…cave-dwelling monster thing, and Ed’s brain felt like it was stuffed full of wool and cotton candy (which sounded kinda gross). His throat was on fire, he wasn’t sure his respiratory system was even working anymore, and he did _not_ have a fever.

“Edward, I really think—”

“I’m _not_ sick, Roy,” Ed growled, head pounding. He sniffed miserably, turning back to glare at his computer. For some reason Mustang had marched over to his desk after lunch, acting all concerned when he realised that Ed was a bit…under the weather.

Next to him, Roy sighed. Ed continued to stare at the computer screen. Maybe if he ignored him enough, the man would just leave.

A cool hand lay against his forehead delicately, and Ed flinched violently.

“What the fuck?” He looked up, indignant, especially when Roy just frowned down at him. “Do that again and I’ll bite your hand off!”

“That would threaten me far more if you had half your usual volume,” Roy replied, unimpressed. “And if you didn’t have a fever so high I can practically feel it just standing here. “You should really go home.”

And Ed would say that Roy looked…worried, if he didn’t know any better. But Roy didn’t get worried. Not about Ed. He got worried about promotions and results, and that one time he’d thought that Hawkeye had been in a car crash, but not about Ed.

“I’m fine, Mustang.” Ed sniffed, and tried not to sound pathetic.

“Edward, please, I’m—” Roy sighed, closing his eyes. “All right. Have you been at all productive today?”

 _No_. “Yep.” He sniffed again.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense,” Roy ploughed on, despite Ed’s answer, “to rest a little and to return more productive? Would that not be more efficient?”

“I’m fine though, it’s just a bit of—”

“Just sit there for half a minute, and think about how you feel.” Roy’s voice was starting to get a bit of bite to it, so Ed huffed, and did as he was told.

The truth was, Ed _did_ feel like shit. And the way Mustang was giving him the Mustang version of puppy eyes—a disapproving frown instead of his know-it-all smile—made Ed feel even more shit.

“Fine,” he relented.

“Praise the Lord,” Roy muttered. “Now will you go home?”

Ed sighed. “Yeah, yeah. You were right all along, well done.” He stood up quickly, and before he even finished his wobbly ascent, Roy’s hand was gently cradling his elbow.

“Easy. Do you need anyone to take you home?”

Ed shrugged out of the hold, his face feeling even warmer than it had before. “No. It’s not far.”

“All right, then,” Roy relented. “Tell me—let us know when you get home safely.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Gathering his stuff, he went to his locker—where there was a note, and a paper bag taped to the door.

Ed opened the bag first, and his heart warmed at the contents: some cough drops, medicine, packets of tissues, and boxes of instant soup. The words on the note were straight to the point:

 

_Don’t push yourself any harder. Go home, take some medicine, and for goodness sake, stay warm._

 

Tucking the package away in his bag, he headed to the door.

“I’m gonna head off then,” he said, before coughing.

“Thank goodness,” Mustang said absently, eyes glued to his screen.

“Shut up, Mustang.” But even to Ed’s ears, the words sounded weak.

Roy just shook his head, before looking up. “Go home, Edward. And stay warm.”

Even with the party of germs clogging up his brain, the words triggered a memory.

It couldn’t be…

But then Roy looked back to his computer like nothing had happened.

“Rest well, Ed.”

Ed stared for a moment longer, before shuffling towards the door. “Yeah. Bye.”

No. It couldn’t be.

Just because you wished for something to be true didn’t mean that the universe ever listened.

* * *

The next time, Al insisted on coming with him.

After a morning spent debating whether or not the person had any romantic intentions (Ed refused to believe that), Al decided to deliver Ed to the lab the next Monday morning to see for himself. But that was fine. Al would just see that it was just someone having a bit of fun, with their little gifts and hints. It was fine, Ed reminded himself as he swiped his card to enter the lab, heading to his desk as Al chattered behind him. It wasn’t as though there’d been any grand gestures declaring the person’s love, or heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, or—

Shit.

“It _is_ a secret admirer!”

Al was far too happy about this. It wasn’t a secret admirer; if they really admired Ed that much, they wouldn’t send him flowers or leave sappy messages right where his brother and the whole office could see them. They wouldn’t want Ed to die of embarrassment, at the tender age of twenty-five, standing in the doorway with a blush matching the dozen red roses adorning his usually messy desk.

“Must be very wealthy,” Roy commented.

“Or a florist,” Kain supplied helpfully.

“Reckon they just nicked it from their grandma,” Jean drawled. “Don’t date someone like that, Boss.”

 _Never taking dating advice from you_ , Ed wanted to say—but then his voice died completely when he caught the words on the tag.

Apparently at the same time as Al did.

“You have the most exquisite eyes,” his traitor brother read out loud, to the delight of all his colleagues.

Why, why did they want to kill him?

* * *

The next week, Ed really did have to admit that it was a secret admirer. There were no flowers, only a pizza delivery at lunch on a day when Ed had forgotten to bring his. And that…

For fuck’s sake, _that_ made him fall harder than everything. So he had to admit it.

Plus the author of the mysterious notes really didn’t leave any more room for doubt.

 

 _Not the most nutritious meal_ , the note read this time. _Yet I hope you enjoy it all the same. I also heard your brother was rather excited that you have an admirer. I do rather like the sound of the words, so for the first time,_

_Sincerely,_

_Your Secret Admirer_

* * *

 Two months and eight gifts later, Ed waved goodbye to Roy Mustang and headed out into the cold to go home. Two months and eight gifts later, he’d gathered enough data to be almost one hundred per cent confident of who he was dealing with.

Gloves snug on his hands (the latest gift, ‘ _because you somehow manage to keep losing your own_ ’), he reviewed all his evidence as he walked to the train station.

Clue 1: there was only one person who was around all the time to sneak around to give Ed crap without anyone seeing, cause they were a workaholic disguised under layers of procrastination and dressed up in a lab coat that had no reason to be _that_ fitted.

Clue 2: there weren’t many people who knew Ed’s pizza preferences.

 

(“I would have thought that you simply eat everything,” Roy had said, watching Ed pick the olives from his dinner late one night at work.

“Olives are dumb,” Ed had muttered angrily.

Roy had smiled, something soft in his eyes. “Noted.”

And he had.)

 

Clue 3: usually the nosiest person _ever_ , Roy Mustang seemed to be _very_ disinterested in this particular saga.

And the most damning one, clue 4: there was only one person Ed knew who was that brand of irritating.

It was time to launch a counterattack.

* * *

 If Ed hadn’t known Roy that well, he might’ve missed it. If they hadn’t spent years together in the lab, late nights where Roy had to step over Ed who’d sprawled on the floor (he needed it to concentrate sometimes), Ed might have missed it.

But Ed saw. He’d clocked in early that morning just to see Roy’s reaction, and when Roy picked up the note on his desk (printed, because Ed couldn’t disguise his handwriting for shit), Ed saw just the tiniest flash of surprise.

Ed looked back at his computer screen, scrolling up and down through a spreadsheet that he was paying zero attention to. He heard the rustle of the bakery box he’d left with the note, and then…silence. Which, shit, meant what? Good? Something bad? Maybe some time in the past handful of weeks Roy’s favourite pastries had changed and Ed had just given him something he was now allergic to.

Or…it was something worse. Ed had faced worse rejection, worse _loss_ before, but that didn’t mean this round would be any better.

_He made the first move, you idiot. That probably means he likes you._

And Roy _still_ hadn’t seemed to move, or make any kind of noise at all. Maybe the pastries were magic and somehow managed to freeze the premier chemist in all Amestris.

Fuck, Ed had to look. He grabbed his mug. Getting a cup of water was always a classic excuse to move.

And when he stood, Roy caught his eye for just a second.

“Good morning, Edward,” Roy said softly.

Ed froze.

“Er, morning, Mustang.”

He hurried away, ears burning. He’d thought he could handle it. He’d thought that it might be funny to see Mustang flustered for once, to see him want to melt through the floor with embarrassment the way he’d made Ed want to over the past couple of months.

But Ed hadn’t been prepared for the naked hope in Roy’s eyes.

* * *

The next Monday, Ed made sure to get into the lab early. But when he did, he left the lights off, and just sat on the floor next to the lockers.

And waited.

He’d thought about leaving it another week. Thought about seeing what Roy would do, if anything at all. But now the game was up—or close to it. And to be honest, there was no point in waiting. If it was going to be rejection, then Ed would rather be stabbed than suffocated.

And if it wasn’t…

The sound of the lab door clicking open echoed through the quiet of the room, and Ed lifted his head. Footsteps approached, and his heart was pounding in his ears, his throat, anywhere but his fucking chest, really.

Then the owner of the footsteps rounded the corner, and Ed’s heart only started racing double time when his suspicions were confirmed.

Roy clutched a small envelope in one hand, his usual messenger bag slung over one shoulder. It looked good on him—something Ed hated to admit, but here he was—even though his hair was flattened under a beanie to ward off the cold. He turned to Ed’s locker, not noticing that he had company, and carefully pressed a sticky note to the surface.

“You’re early,” Ed said.

If Ed wasn’t going to get anything else out of this, at least he would get the image of the way Roy fucking _jumped_.

Roy whirled around, eyes hilariously wide, searching the dim room before they landed on Ed, getting up from the floor.

“I—Edward.” Roy looked surprised, then guilty, then terrified, before it was all schooled to nothingness. But Ed knew better than to believe that blank façade; they were both silent for a long moment, and the fact that Roy couldn’t seem to find anything to say spoke volumes.

“Hey,” Ed said eventually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’d kind of imagined the whole scenario—his fucking brain couldn’t shut up sometimes—but now that he was here, all the cool shit he’d planned just…poofed. Great.

Roy sighed, yanking his beanie off to run his hand through his hair. “When did you realise?” he asked quietly, ignoring Ed’s greeting.

Ed shrugged. “A while. Think…think I probably knew from the start.”

“And yet…”

“Yeah.” Ed shuffled his feet. Why was this so _awkward_? He’d figured that he liked Roy, Roy liked him; why were they standing around being weird?

Roy watched him for a moment. “You know, I’d expected you to put more effort into finding out who I was,” he said.

Ed sighed. “I…I kinda didn’t want to.”

There was a flash of hurt across Roy’s face before he hid it again—but Ed had seen it.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Ed said quickly. “Like, I—you know I like you.” The words sounded so _juvenile_ , and Ed’s ears were heating up something stupid. “You know that, after last week. It’s just…I wanted it to be you. I didn’t want to know if it was someone else. Or if it was you, that it was just some kinda weird joke, or your idea of letting me down gently ‘cause you’d figured out my dumb crush on you.”

As Ed spoke, the guarded expression on Roy’s face softened. “It was my idea of gauging whether or not you were actually interested in me because I had figured out your attraction. Or hoped that I had.”

Even now, Roy looked kind of guarded. Hopeful, but the way his hands were too still, gathered in front of him, told Ed that Mustang was probably as nervous as he was.

Better put them both out of their misery.

“I got somethin’ for you.” Ed took out his wallet, and took out the two tickets he’d been keeping safe there. He used his right hand, because prosthetics didn’t shake like a fucking leaf, and he had to _try_ to look cool. “There’s—there’s an exhibition. Thing. For Japanese films. And I know you like that shit, and I thought it looked pretty cool, so if you wanted…”

Why were words so _hard_? He’d written and published an entire book before, and he couldn’t even find the right combination of words to ask Roy out on a fucking date; it was ridiculous.

But Roy seemed to get the idea, because next thing Ed knew, Roy’s hand was holding his own. The other man plucked the tickets from his fingers and…kept hanging onto them.

He was still cradling Ed’s hand lightly in his own as he inspected the tickets, and Ed’s cheeks were rapidly getting even warmer. A week ago, he might’ve pulled away, afraid of what he couldn’t have. Now…well, if Roy wasn’t letting go, Ed wouldn’t either.

“I’d love to go with you,” Roy said, and the smile on his face was soft, like the ones that Ed sometimes caught from the corner of his eye that sent his heart racing. “Thank you for inviting me; that’s very thoughtful.”

Then Roy frowned, and _that_ couldn’t be good. “However, it is two weeks from now.”

Ed felt his heart sink. He’d taken a gamble, wanting to surprise Roy, but clearly it hadn’t paid off. “Ah, if you’re busy we can figure out somethin’ else to do. Sorry, I should’ve checked.”

But the smile was back. “No, not at all. I have no other plans and I’d love to go. It just seems a little far off, that’s all.”

“Oh, right.” Ed sighed in relief. “Yeah, we gotta wait a bit I guess. But—”

Then Roy was _way_ too close, and Ed had to look up (damn him) to see Roy’s face properly. See the way that his eyes softened, and see a gentle smile that Ed hoped he could live with forever.

“I think we’ve waited long enough,” Roy said quietly.

Ed frowned, ignoring the way that his heart was pounding. Roy was still holding his hand, and had agreed to go on a date with him—being this close was dangerous for his health. “Well, all the other times were booked out, so we don’t really—”

“Would you like to go for a coffee now? As a date?” Roy added quickly.

Ed was about to yell at him for continuing to interrupt—but then the words registered.

“I—um.” _Just say yes_. “Yeah. Yeah.” Ed slowly started to grin, and taking a chance, he squeezed Roy’s hand gently. “Yeah.”

“I take it that’s a yes, then.” It had been too much to hope for that Roy wouldn’t keep being an ass.

“Obviously.” Ed rolled his eyes. “Are we gonna get going then, or what?”

“The former seems more agreeable.” Roy started tugging Ed towards the door. “I happen to have vouchers right here.” He gestured with the envelope.

Ed scowled. “Really? Last week you got me a fuckin’ bouquet of flowers, and now it’s back to the coffee vouchers?”

“Well…I must admit, I had been hoping to reveal myself later today and ask you to have a drink.” Roy’s expression was exasperated, but still fond when he glanced at Ed. “As always, you are one step ahead of me.”

Ed grinned. “You got that right.”

Roy just laughed, and they exited the lab out into the early morning cold. Roy’s hand never left Ed’s, and Ed didn’t let go either. It made him feel good—safe, secure—so what was the point in even trying to pretend otherwise? Roy had been right. They’d waited long enough.

So with a smile on his face and Roy’s easy conversation blooming warmth in his heart, Ed held on.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/starchydreams/status/956295154184237056) | [Tumblr](http://psyraah.tumblr.com/post/170090596357/safe-with-me-pairing-edward-elricroy-mustang)
> 
> Comments, kudos, and sharing all appreciated!


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